She Doesn't Believe In God
by Whiskey10882
Summary: It seems like only yesterday that everything was normal. Or as normal is it had ever been in the Dollhouse. Now Claire finds it hard to hold on as the world screeches to a halt.


It seems like only yesterday that everything was normal. Or as normal is it had ever been in the Dollhouse. Now Claire finds it hard to hold on as the world screeches to a halt. Once upon a time so long ago she would have had the strength to fight the 'thought-pocalyse' as Topher calls it. Now all she can do is hide away underground, in the place where this nightmare began. She's lonely; although there are about a dozen others hiding down there with her.

She knows that she couldn't leave even if she wanted to. It's too dangerous out there with the Butchers killing people with their original personalities. Though, who knows, maybe she would be safe. It's not like Claire Saunders is her original personality after all. It's strange because she feels like she always has been Claire Saunders; but deep down she knows that treacherous thought was planted in mind when Topher designed her imprint.

She still hates Topher for what he did to her. Though she still hasn't ever asked him about who she was originally. What with the current chaos there's no way she could ever be re-imprinted with her original personality. Even if she could be, she wouldn't want to. Claire doesn't want to die for some woman who gave away her body; no matter the reason.

She tries to tell herself that's the only reason. No matter what the real reason is, Topher isn't up to re-imprinting her with her original personality. Anyway, to be truthful, she doesn't trust anyone other than Topher to do it and right now he's to fragile. Whenever she approaches the pod where he spends most of his time in an attempt to try and make him take his meds, he flinches and moves as far away from her as he possibly can. Some days she persists and others she can't face him and she lets Adelle look after him instead.

Topher does not get better; in fact he only gets worse and she's running out of medication fast. The Dollhouse had a store of essential medical supplies but those didn't include anti-psychotic meds or sleeping pills so Claire has been using the small supply she had in her office. There wasn't much to start off with and there's only a few doses left. She used to give him a dose on an almost daily basis; now she saves them for his really bad days.

On his good days he calls her Claire and they get along better than they ever did before. He lets her sit in the pod with him and he shows her his latest scribbled equations and diagrams. She sits and lets Topher's technical babble wash over her, making sure to nod in all the appropriate places. Sometimes, on those good days, she can almost pretend that it isn't the end of the world. She can count the number of good days he's had in the past months on one hand.

On his average days he calls her Dr. Saunders and he glances at her warily when she comes near. Their conversations are short and awkward and Topher often asks her if she has somewhere else to be; as though he's hoping she'll just leave. She finds these days hard but she manages. After all, on his average days their relationship is pretty much the same as it used to be. Her loathing of him barely hidden beneath her calm mask.

On his bad days he calls her Whiskey and he shakes violently when she comes near. When she tries to make him take his meds he flinches away and waves his arms wildly in front of him, as if he's trying to ward her off. He whimpers that she shouldn't come near, that he's broken her too much already. She tries to tell him that he's the one whose broken and she's just trying to fix him; but he only puts his fingers in his ears and cries. When she tries to comfort him he pushes her away.

On some of his bad days he gets angry which is almost scary. Claire had never seen Topher get this angry before and she sometimes wonders if it's a side effect of the medication. He almost dissolves into fits when she gets any closer than a few meters away from his pod and she often finds him filling notebooks with names. Claire; Whiskey. Caroline; Echo. Tony; Victor. Priya; Sierra. Everyone with their doll counterpart. Their empty half.

Sometimes she finds a page covered in just her name. Claire Saunders, over and over again. Sometimes it's Bennett's name. On the days when he writes Bennett's name he jumps at every sound; as if every noise reminds him of a gun shot. He breaks down at the sight of her. On those days she leaves him to Adelle.

She feels restless in the Dollhouse. She wants to get up, get out there and do something. But that's just not who she is. She watches Adelle leading the others in prayer, giving them hope. Some days she wishes she was the one to lead them all; though she knows she's not cut out for the job. Adelle always has been and always will be the one who rules the Dollhouse.

Most nights she doesn't attend the circles. Personally she doesn't believe in God. Why should she when her God is huddling in a pod, deteriorating into madness before her very eyes? Instead of standing with the others and faking her contribution to their pointless prayer, she goes and sits with Topher. On nights when he sleeps soundly, usually when she's managed to get him to take some sleeping pills, she slides into the pod next to him. It's always cramped because the pods are only meant for one person; but he never wakes when she curls up beside him. Or if he does, he never pushes her away.

Every month Tony goes up to the surface to check on the state of the world above. He always returns with swollen, red eyes and all but stumbles into Priya's arms. Every time Claire walks away disappointed but strangely relieved. If the day came that they could all finally leave the Dollhouse she doesn't know where she would go.

It's after one of those reconnaissance missions that Claire goes and sits by Topher's pod. He's having one of his rare good days and when she sits down he strikes up a conversation.

"If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?" he asks, sounding more coherent than she can remember him having sounded for a long time.

"I don't know," she replies truthfully.

"Come on. There must be somewhere you want to go," he presses.

"Anywhere but here," she tells him. "Anywhere but this horrible place."

Her reply shakes him. She can see it in his eyes. He turns away for a moment, but when he turns back he's composed.

"Me too," he whispers and her eyes fill with unexpected tears. She closes her eyes to hold back the tears, then gives him a watery smile as she stands to leave.

He grabs her hand; pulling her back towards him. It's the first time he's touched her in the last few months. Recently he's had so many bad days that she's mostly been letting Adelle look after him.

"Stay," he pleads and she obeys, sitting down beside his pod again. After a few seconds he looks at their joined hands with confusion, as though he'd forgotten he was holding on to her. He releases his grip on her hand and moves his hand away.

There's a few moments of silence; then Topher suddenly turns to her.

"Is this my fault?" he asks her. Claire doesn't know how to respond to that and she hesitates for a moment too long before delivering her false attempt at a comforting reply.

"No Topher, it's not your fault." But it's too late and he grabs her arm again, pulling her into the pod where she falls on top of him, almost straddling him. His mouth is pressed close to her ear and she can hear his frenzied muttering.

"Don't answer the phone. Don't answer the phone." He holds onto her arms and pushes her away slightly so that he can look her in the eyes. "Promise me you wont answer the phone," he begs.

She's not sure if its to comfort him or because she doesn't know what to say any more. Maybe it's because she still hates him; but now her hatred has turned to passion. Or maybe it's because she just doesn't want to hold back any more. There's a lot she doesn't know; but she knows it's wrong that she wants lean in and kiss him. His lips are so close to hers and he hasn't moved away. His proximity makes her ache for more contact, and the feeling is heightened by the fact he's hardly let her near him for the past few months.

In the end she doesn't have to decide whether or not to lean in. She doesn't even have to decide to pull away. To her surprise his eyes darken and he leans in and crushes his lips to hers. The kiss is rough and hard as he pulls her closer and positions her under him. She hits her head painfully on the edge of the pod, but the pain is lost as the intensity of the moment over comes her.

After a moment he changes the pace and the passion of the first kiss is lost. Instead he presses light kisses along her collar bone and she squirms beneath him, groaning at him to hurry up. He's always been stubborn and now is no exception. He ignores her and takes his time, worshipping her body with kisses. She can't stand it. She wants this hard and fast. It's just lust, not anything more; she tells herself. But there's no way she can convince herself when Topher is kissing her tenderly; as though it's a lot more than just lust to him. She tells herself that it doesn't make a difference. She still hates him.

She digs her fingers into his shoulders and arches up against him, desperately trying to change the pace. He gasps and responds, sliding his hand slowly up her thigh. She moans at the feeling of his fingers on her sensitive skin. This is so wrong. So selfish. So desperate. So sad.

She pushes away the thoughts and snatches his lips into another demanding kiss as she grinds up against him. She can feel his arousal pressed against her as he trails his fingers over her through her panties. He does it again and again, making her breath catch rhythmically. When she tries to thrust against his hand he pulls away.

She freezes, mentally preparing herself for the inevitable moment when he will pull back entirely and push her away. She feels the loss of contact as his body moves away from hers and she sighs. It's over.

She looks up, and to her surprise Topher isn't huddled away from her. Instead he's undoing his jeans and pulling them down. He sees her looking up at him and he gives her a smile that reminds her of the old Topher. Bu there's no time to think about the old Topher because he's moved back to her and is sliding her panties down.

They both close their eyes as he pushes into her. For the first time in years she feels whole. But how can she feel whole when this is so wrong. She hates him. He's the broken puzzle piece to her almost complete puzzle. The piece that shouldn't fit but she's pushed it so hard, trying to make it fit, that now it does.

She rocks against him and soon they're gasping in unison, both out of breath. He moans her name as he comes and she follows silently only moments after him; her entire body shaking violently as her orgasm rushes over her.

After, they lie still; sweaty bodies entangled. She knows she should leave but she's too comfortable, though the pod is a little cramped with two occupants. She doesn't mind the proximity. He strokes her shoulder gently and she rests her head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. For a moment she could almost believe that it wasn't the end of the world. That they were two normal people. Not a broken doll and a broken man. Two puzzle pieces broken in exactly the right way so that they fit together perfectly.

Claire listens as Topher's heartbeat slows. A few years ago, if you'd asked her, she would have said he didn't have a heart. Now she knows better. He has a heart and it's been broken again and again. By her when he programmed her to hate him. By Priya. By her during that desperate night in the server room. By Bennett. By her again when her sleeper imprint surfaced. And finally by the end of the world. Maybe she can fix him. After all, her name seems to be on that list far too many times.

They don't have much time. Either they'll stay down here for ever, until they die; or the world will end and they'll all die. She counts his heartbeats as they tick away the time they have left. Slowly, the steady rhythm lulls her to sleep.

Claire has a dream. Though it's more of a nightmare. She's a doll. Again. She's wandering around the main floor of the Dollhouse with a dull, vacant expression. Her eyes are not windows to her soul because she doesn't have a soul. She looks up and sees a bright light coming from Topher's office and she walks up the stairs towards the light.

She walks into the room and before her stands God. His mouth curves into a smile and his eyes crinkle at her as he gestures to the chair behind him. His throne made from metal and wires. She walks towards the chair but stops when she reaches the man.

She looks into his eyes and sees his twisted, broken soul hiding behind the mask that is his face.

She turns and walks away.

She doesn't believe in God.


End file.
